


Lights Out

by Empy (Empyreus)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Community: slashababy, Eavesdropping, Exhaustion, Groping, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, On Set, Senses, Teasing, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-23
Updated: 2003-12-23
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:07:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1848976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empyreus/pseuds/Empy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most times, you don't need lights to have action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lights Out

**Author's Note:**

> SlashaBaby fic for slipstream_chan/[](http://slipstreamborne.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://slipstreamborne.livejournal.com/) **slipstreamborne**. This is the first time I've attempted to write Hobbits -- hopefully the fic isn't too horrendous.
> 
> Thanks to [](http://littlemimm.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://littlemimm.livejournal.com/)**littlemimm** for the push in the right direction.
> 
> The genre was supposed to be smutty fluff, ended up being more smutty than fluffy :)

Elijah was practically sleeping on his feet, and he felt his already-wigged head droop forward as the makeup assistants fussed over the prosthetic feet.

"Wakey-wakey," Billy sing-songed, waving his hand under Elijah's nose. The movement earned him an angry grunt from the assistant currently busy attaching hair to the backs of Billy's feet.

Looking up, Elijah gave a weak laugh. "Sorry," he said, hearing his own accent shine through strong as he wasn't required to speak like a Hobbit yet. "Jetlag." His eyes drifted half-closed as he yawned and scrubbed at his neck.

"You say jetlag, I say too many pints," Billy said, grinning.

Elijah gave an answering smile. Anything to take his mind off how he could see a pale triangle of skin at the collar of Billy's shirt, at the intersection of shoulder and neck, and how it seemed the perfect place to plant a bite. Not now. Later.

"Or is this horizontal jetlag?" Billy went on.

Elijah snapped his head up. "What?"

Billy grinned. Elijah knew he wasn't quite blushed, but Billy had definitely gotten under his skin with that little barb.

"You're not a wee boy anymore. Who kept you awake?"

"Peter," Elijah deadpanned. "Half the damn night." Ha. Let's see Billy handle that comeback.

For a moment, Billy looked as though his eyebrows might leave his skull altogether, then Elijah cracked a wide smile. "Script revisions, you daft bastard," he laughed. "You should have seen the look on your face!"

There were a few snickers from the make-up assistants, and one of them nudged Billy's calf. "Jealous, Boyd?" she asked.

"I don't need to be," he said, giving the kneeling assistant a wink. There was more laughter, and the assistants took to nudging each other rather rudely while loudly speculating on who exactly had negated Billy's jealous feelings. A long list of female names got rattled off, the conversation taking on a decidedly gossipy edge.

Elijah gave an exaggerated wince and pointed down at the women who were managing to glue and gossip at the same time. Billy answered the wordless gripe with another wink. "You're mine," he mouthed.

**

"Well fuck," Elijah swore as he stood outside the door of his room. First he had wandered off into the wrong hall, tired after the long shoot and walking without thinking. He'd failed to remember that he and the rest of the cast had been relocated again.

As he opened the door, he found the room pitch-black. He fumbled around for the light switch, irritated over how, as always in a strange room, it wasn't where you expected it to be. Probably behind the dresser this time, he thought, giving up and deciding he could manoeuvre through the room and to the desk without breaking something. At least he knew where the table lamp was.

A soft scuffle of socked feet caught his attention, and he tensed up, ready to strike out.

"What the hell?" he hissed as he felt strong arms embrace him.

"Shh," Billy whispered into his ear, the accent seemingly audible even in the simple sibilant sound. "Listen to them."

He didn't even need to strain his hearing to obey the command. There was an arrhythmic knocking coming from next door, interspersed with very, very unmistakeable sounds.

"Crewmembers," Billy snickered, and Elijah felt a soft little shiver skitter down his spine. He half-turned in the hold, and he could make out a blurred outline of Billy's profile in the compact darkness of the room.

"So this is why you were sitting in my room, waiting to scare the hell out of me?" Elijah asked. "To have me listen to people fucking on the other side of the wall?"

"They got me inspired," Billy said, his hand tracing down Elijah's side. "And I missed you," he added, the words flowing together into a long warm breath against Elijah's throat. "Is that reason enough?"

Elijah opened his mouth to form a snappy retort, but found the value of silence greater as Billy's hand curved over his groin. It was strange not to see Billy, strange not to see anything except the barest of outlines. One sense down, four more to go. Touch was next, almost overloaded by the feeling of Billy's warm hand grasping him through layers of clothing. Nimble fingers slid down the row of buttons that held his fly closed, undoing them one by one, and he rocked forward a little for each jolt. He let out a little sound, something vaguely pathetic, then leaned in, blind, to kiss Billy. The first attempt missed, ending up on the stubble angle of jaw, but then Billy tilted his head and all was right. Tea in the kiss, right for taste, then.

He could hear more, sharper, it seemed, than when he saw. Everything was amplified, even the remote scraping of furniture in the next room, the sound of phantom movement. He briefly wondered who the couple next door were. Did he know them?

"What about giving them a run for their money?" he grinned, sure the smile could me heard in his voice if not seen. Billy gave an answering laugh, a soft sound, before walking Elijah back a few steps until they came up against the skewed side table that stood along one wall.

"Suits me." The darkness was a little lighter now, and there were a few flickers of bright light behind his closed eyelids when Billy's fingers wrapped around his cock. "I'm ready when you are."

His knees threatened to buckle, and he slung his arm around Billy's neck to stay upright. Strange how a position this cramped could seem like the only one worth being in. The edge of the table was digging mercilessly into the backs of his thighs, but it was a small and worthless matter. What mattered far more was the Billy should never, ever stop what he was doing.

"Fuck," he swore half-aloud between panting. "Oh fuck." It was the most spiritual thing he could come up with, and Billy seemed to understand it well enough. He speeded up his strokes just the fraction needed to make them utterly teasing. Elijah swayed; finally giving voice to the moan that had been tickling in his throat for far too long.

A pity he couldn't see, because he was sure Billy's eyes would have been wide and almost unbearably green right then.

The table under him shifted, the legs wobbling unsteadily as he thrust his hips forward. Even the table was going weak-kneed, he thought, briefly amused. Billy's mouth on his caused him to quickly abandon that train of thought and instead focus on how best to recall the skills needed for breathing.

"More noise," Billy crooned into his ear, punctuating the words with little nips. He tightened his grip, and the slight calluses on his hands slid against the sensitive skin of Elijah's cock so deliciously Elijah decided both breathing and rational thought were highly overrated.

His head snapped back, impacting hard with the wall as his back arched. All of him arched, his muscles locked in absolute stasis for half a second. The little cry he uttered was an ugly sound, and he could have sworn Billy laughed a little at it.

"You're a squealer, Lij," Billy said, his mouth close enough to touch the side of Elijah's neck. "It figures." His voice was shaky, and as they shifted as one, Elijah could feel the hard curve of Billy's erection pressing into his hip.

"I bet I can make you squeal," he said, trying to laugh and almost failing, because the lust made his voice go strange as always. The sounds from next door hadn't stopped, but they paused, as though the other couple were trying to spy on them as well. "Do you realize how fucked up this is?" he asked, stilling in the embrace. "We're standing in a dark room, hot and sweaty and bothered, and sticky, did I mention sticky? And we're trying to eavesdrop on another couple having sex on the other side of the wall?"

"Got you off, didn't it?" Billy noted, almost conversationally. His hands were not conversationally idle, though, and they grasped Elijah's wrist and tugged at it, finally planting the hand square on Billy's groin. "It's your turn now."

"One condition," he said, leaning in for a kiss. "Lights on. This is getting too weird even for me." Billy nodded, and they made a valiant attempt to walk backwards toward the sofa still holding each other, but gave up after nearly falling over.

"You're insane, did you know that?" Elijah smiled as they flopped onto the sofa. The floor lamp swayed drunkenly as he released the cord, and the yellow light washed back and forth across the ceiling. "I bet you planned the whole thing."

"I did not!" Billy protested indignantly. "I swear," he said, leaning back and lacing his fingers behind his head. "Really."

"Do you know who they are?" he asked, nodding vaguely sideways at the wall.

"Why are you so curious?" Billy retorted. "Aren't I enough for you?"

"You are," Elijah nodded, laughing. "I just want to know who else is going to be jealous of you."


End file.
